


Counting Lives (You'll Survive)

by bargledblocks



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, CaptainPuffy is a mom, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is trying to be a good friend, Reconciliation, This went kinda everywhere, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 16:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bargledblocks/pseuds/bargledblocks
Summary: Three books, that's what Tommy had to keep him sane while in the world of the living. Though to be honest, one of them wasn't really his, another only had pages doused in tally marks, and the last one had shaky chicken scratch writing that most probably wouldn't even call words.Or: Tommy dies a lot in the prison, he has trauma. He actually talks things out with Jack,  and Puffy is a good parental figure.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Jack Manifold & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 245





	Counting Lives (You'll Survive)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first half of this last night, and then these fuckers decided to do lore right after, so now it's canon divergence I guess. This honestly went all over the place but I like it, so you all get it.

Three books, that's what Tommy had to keep him sane while in the world of the living. Though to be honest, one of them wasn't  _ really  _ his, another only had pages doused in tally marks, and the last one had shaky chicken scratch writing that most probably wouldn't even call words.

The first book was what he'd write in whenever he'd awaken, he'd write about what it was like to die, what it was like to  _ be _ dead, and what it was like to come back. He didn't know why he had to, almost nothing changed, although apparently his appearance had changed somewhat each time. His hair had grown lighter, a streak of white had appeared the first time he'd been revived. Now he had to search for any hint of the blond he once had. His eyes had also dimmed, though he wasn't too sure if that was an account of dying or just because of his environment.

He didn't start writing in this book until the third time he was revived, he learned how to keep his shaking hands steady- no matter how badly it hurt, soon after that. 

The second book he didn't start writing in until the fourth time he was revived, he counted each time he gasped for a new breath of air as life filled him again, and again, and again. 

The third one had anything he could think of to avoid dying, trying to figure out what he did  _ wrong. _ Did he shout too loud? Be quiet. Was he being annoying? Stop asking questions, don't hum that song. There had to be a reason, a reason why did he keep getting hurt? How could he avoid it? There had to be  _ something. _ There had to be a  _ reason. _

His companion didn't know about the last two books. He only wrote in them while the masked man slept, and tucked them away at the bottom of the chest when he was done jotting down in ink.

He wasn't sure how many times he had died when that fiery curtain finally fell. He had registered Dream saying something to someone. He knew it wasn't him though, he would have been hurt for ignoring the man if that was the case.

He was still sitting with his books, the two only he knew of, tucked safely away in his inventory. He hadn't gotten the chance to put them away before Dream woke up, he had nodded off to sleep for a few moments himself, and when he cracked his eyes open, the man was already up and meandering about the small obsidian cell.

He was shoved slightly to the side when the netherite barrier came up, the sudden contact made him bristle, but he was still careful not to let himself tumble into the wall of lava before it could fall. When the molten rock finally reached the point that he could see the other side, and the bleary form of Sam standing there. His eyes were still bleary from sleep, since he had only woken up what he thought was probably ten minutes prior.

He watched as the platform dragged itself along towards him and forced himself to stand, his legs were shaky and walking was difficult, and he had no clue how the hell he had managed to stay on the moving bridge as the pistons maneuvered it back into its resting space. 

The netherite clad warden let out a shaky breath, "I- I thought you were  _ dead, _ how,  _ how are you  _ back? I saw you, you weren't- you were  _ gone, _ but now your back…"

Tommy smiled weakly, "I really wish I could tell you but…" he felt himself pulled into a hug and froze, it felt warm and cold, soft and comfortable but at the same time so, so terrible. He weakly struggled out of the hold, forcing words out through the panic that was slowly starting to fog up his brain, "Maybe," he swallowed and his breath quivered, "maybe no touching right now, alright big man? Everything just  _ feels _ a bit too much at the moment."

"Yeah, yeah of course," Sam stepped back a few paces, and Tommy was grateful for the extra room, despite how difficult it was to keep upright without the support. "I just, I thought I lost you, I- are you real? Is that really you? You look so..." 

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, "Trust me, I'm well aware I look like shit right now. And don't worry I'm still real, I'm- I'm still me…" He looked at his hands, "At least, I  _ think _ I am. Don't think I could really be anyone else, right? Can we just leave? I wanna go home." He wrapped his arms around himself, at least his own hands didn't make him flinch, he was grateful for the small mercies he was granted.

Sam's face seemed to soften behind the mask he wore, he'd gotten good at reading people when he couldn't see their faces after all the time he had spent with Dream, "Of course Tommy. Come on, let's get out of here." 

If walking across the bridge was a difficult task, managing to get through the rest of the prison was like trying to solve a 12,000 piece jigsaw puzzle by yourself when you hadn't slept in a week. Despite it all though, even when he collapsed shaking on the floor, he somehow got through.

He wondered what the sun would feel like, would it be warm, in comparison to the cold dark hallways of the prison? Or would it feel too cold in comparison to the bubbling hot lava he'd grown so used to sitting by? Would it be too little, or too much? 

Tommy wasn't sure he wanted to know just yet, but still, he stepped through the portal, all his items he'd left in that locker when he first walked into this hell were held tight within his inventory. 

The wind was something he didn't know he missed, something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to feel again. He'd cry if could, but even with this new surgery of emotion and feeling, he still somehow felt so  _ empty. _ He wanted to bask in this as long as he could, and run away all the same. 

It felt like hours until he was finally able to lay down in his bed, familiar dirt walls surrounding him, it felt safe, familiar. He wanted to sleep for eternity, not in the way of dying though. Dying couldn't count as sleep, it was cold, empty, and he was wholly aware of it. He never woke up from death with more energy than when he had fallen into its unforgiving violent grasp. 

Sleep was empty and dark yes, but it also felt warm, and he was unaware of the passing of time or anything going on. He didn't need to feel air fill previously empty and still lungs, his eyes could open slow and he could take his time rousing into the waking world, instead of quickly snapping into awareness.

It couldn't protect him and let him escape for long, though. As more days away from that cell and person inside passed, the more time he spent there seemed to haunt him. Nightmares slowly accumulated, to the point where his one escape became almost an unbearable hell as well.

He began taking up other means of escape, not trusting his own mind to stay off the topic of his own personal torture. He would spend hours at a time collecting every item Sam Nook would ask for to upgrade the hotel, which he had to semi fight Jack for. But his friend gave back the title to him pretty easily, all things considered. He supposed he wasn't the only one who felt that insane bout of stubbornness he once had drip out of him.

Tommy also noticed the way Jack would look at him, it wasn't like the almost malicious way he had before, or with pity or sympathy or  _ grief _ everyone else around seemed to hold in their eyes when he'd pass. No, he saw empathy, he saw  _ understanding _ . There were still hints of anger there, undertones of a grudge Tommy had no idea how to approach or unpack, but it always seemed to simmer out too fast to even bother mentioning anyways. 

It took him nearly a week until he gave in and asked, "Why do you always look at me like that?"

Jack turned to look at him from where they sat on the edge of the roof of the hotel, "What do you mean?" The older boy raised an eyebrow at him, like he was asking something ridiculous.

Tommy layed down, arms crossed behind his head to cushion it from the harsh concrete, "Like you  _ know, _ like you actually  _ understand. _ I don't even know what it  _ is _ that you understand in the first place!"

Jack laughed bitterly, "Right, of course you wouldn't know. I  _ died, _ Tommy. Like  _ died, _ died. Went to the void and all that shit, felt myself get torn apart, like going through a meat grinder or a wood-chipper." 

Tommy sat up and stared at him wide eyed, but- but  _ how?! _ I know Techno killed you during doomsday, and that you'd died once before then too, how did you lose all of your lives? How- how did you come  _ back?! _ "

All that bitterness and simmering rage that Tommy only saw flashes of seemed to come bubbling up to the surface as Jack glared harshly at him, "You did it! You're the fucking reason I died Tommy! All I wanted to do was visit you while you were in exile, and you fucking  _ killed _ me!"

Tommy felt a cold horror wash over him, had he really done that? Had he really hurt his friend like that? "W-what?" He could only manage a week, shaking voice, "No,  _ no! _ That can't be right I- I thought it was just a normal death! I thought it was just like when you'd come back and fine!  _ You were supposed to be fine _ !" He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, how could he hurt his friend like that, how could he be so horrible-

"Well I wasn't, I lost  _ everything _ Tommy! Even before that I didn't really have much, because you left me! You abandoned me to go play hero! All I wanted was to have my friend, was to have him fucking  _ care _ about me!" Tears were streaking down both of their faces now, a conversation that was pushed to the side far to many times in favor of petty revenge and pure ignorance, and all the emotions that had been festering in the time it had taken to get to this moment were all welling up and spilling over.

"Jack, I'm  _ sorry. _ " Tommy's voice was shaking and he was trying so hard to keep his composure, "I never meant to hurt you, to abandon you, to  _ kill _ you. I never wanted that, and I  _ never _ wanted to be a hero. I just wanted to go home, all I have  _ ever  _ wanted was to go home." A bitter smile pulled at his lips, "But that home doesn't exist anymore. Not for me, not for you, not for  _ anyone. _ And I'm sorry about that, really, truly sorry. Maybe if I had been a better hero, like everyone wanted me to be, that never would have happened." He bit his lip hard enough to taste copper, and hugged himself.

Jack ran hand over his face, and lifted his dual colored glasses to wipe the tears from his own eyes with his jacket sleeve, "I'm not going to say it's fine, 'cause it's really not. Not to me anyway, but… Maybe I asked for too much from you, I don't forgive you for killing me, or for abandoning me, but maybe I can forgive you for not saving me." He took a deep breath and sighed, "I probably shouldn't have expected that from you, no one should have. None of us should have had to put our lives on the line to have a home. Not you, me, Tubbo, Niki-  _ any  _ of us!" 

A new anger overtook Jacks eyes, a different target in mind, though he wasn't sure if it was a person, or the universe itself for dealing them the hand it had. How could it be fair? They were all children when they fought in their first wars, they all held weapons poised to kill in hands too small and inexperienced to stand a chance in that kind of harsh reality. 

Tommy however, was just glad. Glad that he could gain forgiveness for his shortcomings and mistakes, that Jack hadn't decided to turn around and abandon him the same as he had done. Glad that he could mend the cracks in this broken relationship, cracks that he refused to see for so long.

"It must have been really bad, for you to wind up looking like that." Jack started, that look of knowing back on his face.

"What do you mean?" 

"How you died. Must've really sucked, for your hair to look like that." Jack stated as though that were the obvious answer, "I mean, when the void spit me back out, I had a really small patch of while in my hair, not easy to tell it's there cause well…" He gestured to how close shaved his hair was.

"You mean you just… Came back? No special ritual or any shit like that?" Tommy had a glint in his eye, and if Jack didn't know better he'd say it was  _ worry. _

"Yeah? What of it?"

Tommy's look steeled, "I need you to promise me something, Jack. Seriously," he gripped Jack's shoulders to get across any seriousness his tone may have lacked, everyone was well aware by now how much Tommy hated physical contact, "I need you to promise me that you will never ever  _ ever  _ tell Dream about that.  _ Please, _ don't tell Dream." There was fear and an odd sort of despair that Jack couldn't place seeping into Tommy's tone, and he shrugged the hands of his shoulders.

"Yeah, no, of course not. I don't plan on seeing that green bastard ever again anyways. I have no attachment to him, so I have no reason to go anywhere near that prison." Jack gave Toy a suspicious glance, "Why are you so insistent on it though?"

Tommy stood and began making his way to the ladder down, "Don't worry too much about it big man, I'm just trying to keep an eye out for you."

Jacks look only hardened as Tommy walked away, "You know that it's supposed to go both ways right? You say you don't wanna be a hero, but here you are trying to shoulder my burden and not even sharing your own."

Tommy sighed and looked up towards the sky, "I'm  _ fine _ Jack. This isn't something I'm ready to talk about yet okay?"

"Fine, but when you are ready to, even if we're still trying to fix all of  _ this, _ " Jack gestured between the two of them, "I'm here, alright?"

Tommy nodded, even if he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to talk about it. Even as he still had those two books tucked safely in a chest, right next to his bed.

\---

It took a considerable amount of time before anyone managed to find out about the books, really Tommy was shocked they hadn't been found during one of the lootings of his house that used to be done so regularly. And he had experienced a fair share of more, non-lethal deaths before then too. 

Though each time he respawned he'd still pull out both books and leave a short line of ink in one, and a shaky chicken scratch description of what led up to his respawn in the first place. Normal respawns weren't _ bad _ per-say, they didn't hold the pain of being grounded into fine powder that seemed to meld back together wrong and never quite fitting correctly again. But, he did still snap into awareness with a harsh gasp of air, still got those terrible shakes that were so bad he couldn't hide them and that wouldn't leave for the rest of the day. He still always felt that deep fear of 'What if this time I wake up back  _ there.' _

He wasn't sure if "there" was in that prison cell, that now the mere idea of made all his thoughts twist in the wrong direction and go haywire, or the voided dark afterlife that was haunted by two former presidents and although a friend, someone who looked almost too close to to the man who stuck them both down until their last deaths.

And all three he had to witness the harsh and cruel passing of.

Needless to say, Tommy didn't like death in any prospect anymore. He was Careful with himself and others, after learning from Jack that someone could just lose a life without any intentions behind it. He didn't want to accidentally cost someone their life again, knowing what a true death held, and he also didn't want to risk himself for the same reason.

He wanted to go out collecting more supplies for Sam Nook, when the unfortunate train of events leading up to the discovery of the books happened. 

First mistake; it was dark out, which never led to anything good. His second mistake was not paying attention to his surroundings, not noticing the rattle of bones and creak of a bow being drawn, not seeing how close he was to a ledge. 

The thwip of the bowstring being released was the only warning he got before an arrow planted itself in his shoulder.  _ He felt an arrow piercing his chest, and lost his balance and fell into the cold water. _

He panicked at the damage and stumbled back, and suddenly there was no ground underneath his feet. He was free falling through the air. He desperately searched for a water bucket to soften the blow of the quickly approaching ground, but he wasn't fast enough, and soon he felt the sharp pain of hitting the unforgiving ground and the world blanked to nothing.

His eyes snapped open and he felt the familiar rush of air fill his lungs. He took a moment to calm himself, taking deep and shaky breaths, his hands still shook when he felt himself relax to a more normal level. His chest still thrummed with anxiety when he pulled the two books out from the chest they were tucked into. 

He began jotting down what had happened, and how he could possibly avoid it.

_ 'What went wrong: You went out at night. You didn't pay attention. You weren't fast enough. _

_ How to fix it: Don't go outside when it's dark, wait until daytime, it's not worth it. Never ignore your surroundings. Be faster. Be  _ **_better_ ** _.' _

He had just finished writing when he heard a knock, and Puffy poked her head through the door, "Hey Tommy, I wanted to come check up on you, since I was in the area and I saw the message…" her eyes wandered over to the book in his hand, and then to the open tally book sitting on his bed, tilting her head to the side, "Whatcha got there?"

Panic welled up in his chest, and his voice caught in his throat when he tried to speak, "I- It's… It's something I do to- to help, so that I don't-" his voice cracked and he couldn't force any more words out.

Puffy slowly walked over and sat down next to him, though still not close enough that they were touching- which he was eternally grateful for, "Can I see? You don't have to show me if you don't want to, I get it if it's private but… Maybe I can give you some pointers, if you want." Tommy knew he shouldn't, but Puffy had already helped him so much. When she first found out about him being back, she insisted on therapy, which he didn't object to, he had already put in a note when he first saw the office.

Tommy passed the book he held over to her, and she took it with such gentleness that someone would think it was made of glass. A slight frown pulled at her lips when she read over the few passages on the page, she turned the book to the first page, but looked over to him before reading, silently asking for permission to continue. When he didn't object, and gave a small nod, she continued reading.

Puffy felt a cold horror was over here entire being as she read over passages, she flipping through pages so fast she could only catch a few words. But there was only one word- or name rather, that she was looking for at that point, and she found it in near every entry for a large portion of the book,  _ Dream _ .

She closed the book and looked at him, that grief he had seen so many times in her eyes was back full force, "Tommy…" her eyes carried over to the tally book, "Why didn't you tell me? I thought- I thought it was just that once but, Tommy this is  _ so much worse. _ " She turned back to him again, tears building behind the shades she wore.

He nodded, still not able to get his voice to cooperate.

"Can I- is it alright if I hug you?" 

Tommy debated the question, weighing whether the contact would be any good right now. He was still shaky and hypersensitive from the respawn, but he'd had a few hugs given to him from the sea captain, it was always nice, comfortable, it felt like home. Similar to the ones Tubbo would give him, still different, but similar nonetheless. He nodded again, and leaned into her open arms.

Puffy held him close to her chest and he felt tears welling up in his eyes as she carded a hand through his hair, he wasn't sure why he was so emotional now, though it always seemed to be a constant whenever she'd hug him. He wished he knew how to make the shaking stop, how to regain control of his voice and speak, he wished he didn't fall into a blind panic whenever he took damage or someone touched him when he didn't expect it. He wished he could just be  _ okay. _

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Puffy asked as she rubbed his back, trying to comfort him, "It wasn't your fault that he did that, that he did  _ any _ of that. You being yourself, being a  _ kid, _ a  _ scared _ kid, does not justify killing you. Not now, not then, and not ever."

He  _ wailed, _ he wished he could say he knew, that he was aware it wasn't fair, but if it wasn't his fault, who's  _ was _ it? There had to be a reason, right? There had to be some huge piece of the puzzle he was missing, if it wasn't his fault, if he hadn't done something to deserve it, then it meant he died all those times without reason, it would mean it was all pointless.

"It's okay, I know it's hard to understand right now, but one day you'll see that you didn't deserve that.  _ Any _ of it. And I'll be there with you the whole time, if that's what you need." She pulled him close so he was sitting in her lap as she leaned against the dirt wall. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before exhaustion from the late hour, his panic, and the whirlwind of emotions he felt through the last few… Was it hours? However long it was, he felt tired enough to let his eyes slip closed, and felt sleep for over his brain.

"I promise no matter what," He heard Puffy whisper, "from now on, I will protect you until my last breath." And Tommy believed in wholeheartedly. 

It was the first night in a long time that he had a truly peaceful, dreamless sleep. And maybe- he realized, maybe he could be okay, someday at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you felt emotions like I did when writing this. (The scene with Jack and Tommy actually made me cry ngl)


End file.
